Michelle (above) just as we began our 15-mile bike descent down the Norwegian fjord, as mentioned in the last post. Also mentioned, the goats and farm (below).
Is it ever better not knowing the truth? Is it sometimes just better if the rotten reality of the matter is withheld and we are fastened with a lovely lie? Do most of us really give a rat’s about what is true and what is not just so it doesn’t rock our world? Isn’t perception of what is true just as important as what is true? Do most Americans really want to know that one of the more sacred symbols of the Old West, the tumbleweed, is actually a latter-day transplant from Russia? Do most of us really want to know that the most beautiful bird in the US, the cock pheasant, actually hitched a ride over here from China? I didn’t think so.
Same thing with politics. Is it better knowing that American politics are just about as corrupt and venal as any point on the planet? There is an old adage out West—“All hat, no cattle.” Translated: You might be a tuff-talking Texan, Tex, and you might swagger under a big ten-gallon hat, but if you don’t own no cows you ain’t no cowboy. So with politicians. They might smile the smile of all smiles and swear and swear and swear that they “feel our pain” and care and will clean up Dodge and chase out the crooks but they know they are lying even when they are lying the lie. Washington IS Dodge City and the pols ARE the crooks. There is no Lone Ranger out there, some masked philanthropist, who will ride to our rescue. It’s a game, a game of who can cheat the steal and get the most without getting too greedy and getting caught.
Personally, I was much happier thinking that most politicians, except for a few rotten eggs, were generally honest and really cared about this country and that voting really mattered. Of course, I was also happier when I believed in Santa Claus.
Weasel in the Hen Coop—Seems Andy Thomas of here in South Florida was using his position as Child Welfare Worker to cover for a host of sexual shenanigans. Seems in return for some carnal action on the side Andy would wipe clean good-lookin’ drug users’ rap slates, even tho such acts would clearly keep children at risk in bad spots. Whatever. Zzzzzzzzz. Seems this is not news in the Sunshine State since it was buried so low down on a back page that it would take a back-hoe to find it. Seems none of you are surprised. Yawn. Zzzzzzzzz. Seems we better move on to some real news.
I got run off the road yesterday. Just tooling along, on the last leg of my bike ride, I noticed a small white car ahead that seemed to be turning around, yet was doing it so damned slowly and uncertainly that I realized they would never manage this simple feat until I passed by. Imagine my surprise when the driver ignored my passing in front of them and just kept on moving forward across the road. Anyway, the car t-boned me and as I fought to keep my balance I managed to steer around right through the tree limbs. Surprisingly, I made it back to the road in one piece with nothing bleeding or broken.
“HEY! What the hell are you doing,” I yelled loudly as I pulled up to the driver’s window to count how many heads, horns and eyes this specimen was sporting.
I was instantly disarmed by a young woman who, honestly, didn’t seem quite all there. And she did seem sincerely sorry, and said as much. She looked much more upset than me. Her simple apology that she did not see me was typical, but good enough. I left without further yelling or furious looks.
Oddly, talking to the old biking feller from Boston the day before, he mentioned that at some nebulous point in the past some guy had cut him off up at Blind Pass Beach (appropriately). The crazy old man (who might be 85 or more) was startled and yelled for the fellow to watch where he was driving. Well, this hero the frightened old guy had yelled at jumped on his brakes, trapped the bike and rider between his truck and the guard rail, jumped out, then threatened to “break the old man’s neck.” Lots of that stuff happens down here. I’m betting the race between us and California is neck and neck as to who has the most road rage maniacs per capita.
A Tampa rocket scientist snagged an endangered sea turtle the other day and took it home. After placing the 15-lb. turtle in a backyard tank, the man made motions to eat it. Fortunately, a neighbor put the kibosh on this business and authorities rode to the rescue and released the animal. No mention in the least if this lovely individual was jailed, fined or whether he was given an award. But really. . . .
What was this man going to tell his dinner guests that night when they asked what they were eating.
“Hey, what is this, Fred? It tastes like chicken?”
“Oh, ha, ha, believe it or not you’re eatin’ one of them rare Ridley’s sea turtles. They are on the endangered species list. Can you pass the salt this way, Bubba?”
Perhaps anyone this ignorant, this indifferent to the laws of man and nature would. . . . I give up! I don’t know what to say or write about this individual or the millions just like him who share this fragile planet with the rest of us. I can say this: With criminal retards like this handily outnumbering the rest of us, the jury’s in, the verdict's out: The world is skrewed.